Vengeance is Mine - A Benjamin Tucker Mystery

by Harry James Krebs

  “We have to leave, Ben. Right now!”

  I tried to read her face. “What’s wrong?”

  “Netter called,” she said. “There’s been another killing.”

  We each grabbed a slice of pizza and left.

  CHAPTER 44

  It took twenty minutes to get to 455 East Rickman Drive in Cary. The scene reminded me of the one at Jennifer’s house eleven days earlier. There were eight police cruisers with light bars flashing, an EMS truck, and the inevitable media in full force. The street was barricaded off, so I had to park half a block away. Netter’s car was in front of the Channel Fourteen News truck on the other side of the taped barrier.

  Lainie opened her door.

  “Call me when you want me to come pick you up,” I said.

  She shook her head. “No. You’re not going anywhere. I’m supposed to keep an eye on you, and that’s what I’m going to do. You’re coming with me.”

  I got out and followed her toward the house. She showed her FBI identification to Officer Ralph Lacasa, who moved a barricade and allowed us to get closer. As we walked past, I showed him my Rolex watch, but Lacasa just looked at me as if to say “Yeah? So you have a watch.”

  We stopped by Netter’s car, and Lainie pointed to it. “You stay in the Lieutenant’s car.”

  “You’re kidding, right? It stinks in there.”

  “You can put up with it for a few minutes,” she said.

  “How about if I just stay right here and lean against the hood?”

  She agreed and returned to the officer securing the perimeter. She pointed at me as she spoke to him, and I assumed she was telling Lacasa that I was a potential victim and was not to leave. He looked at me and nodded, expressionless. Lainie brushed a loose strand of red hair from her face and headed into the house. It was a two story structure, with white vinyl siding, black shutters, and black asphalt shingles. There was an attached two-car garage with a large black trashcan rolled up in front of the closed garage doors.

  I tried not to look at the house because of what I knew to be inside. But with each person entering or leaving the structure, human nature caused me to glance over to see what was happening.

  Lauren Roman, the News 14 Carolina reporter, recognized me and shouted for me to come over and answer questions. I pretended I didn’t hear her.

  Lainie eventually came out to fill me in on what was going on.

  The victim was thirty-seven-year-old Judith Elizabeth Krauss. She was divorced and lived with her boyfriend, Kenneth Stokely. He found her body at approximately seven o’clock this evening when he returned from work. Lainie said the boyfriend was in a state of shock, hysterical. Paramedics were trying to calm him down.

  The house showed no signs of forced entry. All exterior windows and doors were closed and locked.

  Photos found by investigators showed Krauss to have had a remarkable resemblance to previous victims Clancy and Knudsen. Similarly, Krauss’s head had been removed, and she had been posed on the master bed holding a Bible open to Romans 12: Verse 19.

  Two officers escorted a man from the house. He was white as a ghost.

  “That’s Stokely,” Lainie said.

  I looked at a man paralyzed with grief, barely able to walk. The officers helped him into a police cruiser about fifty feet from where we were standing.

  Netter walked out of the house, pulled off his latex gloves, and lit a cigar. He looked our way and headed in our direction.

  “Man, it’s a fuckin’ mess in there,” he said. “Almost identical to the Clancy scene.” He looked at me and grinned. “Nice ears.”

  “Why don’t you take the flying bite on my ass?”

  He chuckled. “We are touch-y today. Anyway, I suppose you’ll be wanting to take pictures,” he said.

  I nodded.

  “Well, it’ll have to wait ‘til tomorrow. The forensics guys’ll be here most of the night.”

  Netter and Lainie turned and headed back into the Krauss residence. The wind had picked up, so I zipped up my jacket to shield myself from the chill. I then leaned back against Netter’s car and folded my arms. It was going to be a long night.

  CHAPTER 45

  Tuesday morning, the media swarmed in front of the Cary Police Department like vultures circling over an animal carcass. Lainie and I walked briskly past them and into the building. The task force meeting would focus on the Krauss killing, and again, I was barred from attending. The thought of fighting off the media sickened me, so I spent the next hour sitting on a black upholstered bench in the lobby.

  Finally, Lainie came out and filled me in on the details.

  “It was definitely Plum,” she said. ‘The head was removed, and the body was displayed exactly like Clancy and Knudsen. The severed head is missing. Same Bible, same version, same publisher, opened to the same passage. The doors and windows were all locked except the front door. There were bloody footprints that appear to match those from the other crime scenes, but we won’t know for sure for a couple of days.”

  She continued. “Neither Krauss’s boyfriend, Stokely, or her family knew of anyone who would want to harm her. She and Stokely had an unusually tranquil relationship. Stokely said they never argued, and close friends, co-workers, and family members supported that claim.

  “Dunwood’s people are looking for links between Krauss and the other victims, but so far they’re striking out, the same as before.”

  She took a sip of cold coffee and made a face. “Yuck. I also presented a theory that, after the incident at the cemetery where Plum was wounded, he may have changed his M.O. for discarding the heads. I believe when he’s done with Krauss’s head, he’ll give it to you.”

  I huffed and glanced up at the ceiling. “Christ! Was there any good news?”

  Lainie smiled. “Yes, in fact, there was. Lisa Stanton will be released from the hospital this afternoon. She’s going to stay with her parents until she’s recovered enough to be on her own. She’ll also be attending mandatory counseling to deal with emotional trauma.

  “Anyway,” she added. “Netter’s going to give a statement to the press about the Krauss killing, and then he’ll be at the crime scene all day. He said it’s okay if we want to stop by and take a look around, but it would have to be around one o’clock.”

  “Let’s do it.”

  I followed Lainie to her temporary cubicle where she reviewed emails pertaining to the Baltimore killings. We finally left at eleven thirty and stopped at the Highlands Country Club for something to eat. Lainie was impressed by the sheer opulence of it all. “Always wondered how the other half lived.”

  “Things have changed,” I said. “It’s the other two and a half percent.”

  She selected a large garden salad with grilled salmon and sliced mangoes and avocados. I chose the corned beef sandwich with sauerkraut and fries. Since she was on duty, Lainie was forced to drink iced tea. I, on the other hand, enjoyed a lovely, deep red glass of merlot. I told her after every sip how great it was until she kicked me under the table and threatened to shoot me.

  We arrived at the Krauss crime scene at ten minutes before one o’clock. Netter’s sedan was parked ahead of two police cruisers. I took my briefcase from the trunk, and the two of us headed to the front door.

  A large burly-looking officer opened the door when Lainie knocked. As we entered, I held up my watch. He looked at me like I was a nutcase showing off a fancy watch as he handed us each Tyvek booties and latex gloves.

  There was one obvious difference between this crime scene and the Clancy scene. Krauss and Stokely were both smokers and an overpowering stench of stale cigarette smoke hung in the air. I made a mental note but didn’t see any significance in it.

  Netter was sitting at the dining room table reviewing his notes from the night before. He glanced up at us as we came in and grunted.

  I walked over to where he was. “Have you even told any of your guys about my Rolex watch?” I asked. “They look at me like they don’t get the drift.�
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  He looked at the watch and grunted again. “Damn. Maybe I forgot to mention it,” he said.

  “Well, thanks a hell of a lot.”

  “Ah, quit your bitchin’,” he said. “Nobody’s shot you … yet. I’ll put out a bulletin.”

  I could tell he was ticked off. “What’s up?” I asked. “Did something happen at the press briefing?”

  He grunted a third time. “You could say that. That stupid bitch, Roman, asked me if I should step aside and let someone more experienced take over the investigation.”

  “Don’t pay any attention to her. She’s got the investigative instincts of a slug. If she wasn’t a looker wearing skintight clothes with her cleavage hangin’ out, she wouldn’t even be on the air. She’s nothing but an airheaded piece of fluff.”

  “I know that, and you know it. But most people don’t. Now Mayor Richards wants my ass hangin’ from a flagpole for the whole world to see. He said he’s going to open an internal investigation to look into the handling of this case.”

  “Richards is covering his ass,” I said. “He’s interested in running in the next senate race and wants to make sure all his shit’s been dumped on somebody else.”

  “Well, I’m not so sure they’re wrong in expressing their lack of confidence in the investigation.” He sounded insecure. Was this the same Netter I knew? “Five people are dead … and Stanton was almost killed. It’s been over a month, and it doesn’t seem like we’re getting any closer to nailing this bastard. All the breaks seem to be falling in his direction. At first, I thought it might be a cop or someone on the inside who had intimate knowledge of the investigation. But we now know what Plum looks like, so we know he isn’t one of us!”

  He looked around the room at the windows and doors. “There’s no sign of forced entry, so how the hell did he get in here? I can’t believe that three women let him in the front door … or that they brought him home with them.”

  “The lack of forced entry is telling us something,” I said. “Plum needed to break through the door in Nora’s bedroom suite to gain access to our main house. If he knew how to pick a lock, he would have done it there, too. And he broke the lock at Jennifer’s house, which also supports my belief that he’s no picklock. He had to have some other means of entering the residences at the other crime scenes. I keep coming back to the thought that he might be posing as some kind of trusted individual.”

  Netter threw his hands up in frustration. “We need a significant lead, Tucker … something that will break this case wide open.” He waved me off. “Look around. Take photos. Do that voodoo stuff you do. Just come up with something. And we haven’t got much time. Richards has me in his fuckin’ crosshairs.”

  Voodoo stuff?

  Lainie sat down with Netter in the dining room. As the two of them studied Netter’s notes and the crime scene photos, I took out my digital camera and began taking my own shots. I started with the entry and then moved on to the living room, kitchen, dining room, garage, and finally the bedrooms. The scene was remarkably similar to what I’d seen at the Clancy residence.

  I was just finishing in the master bedroom when Lainie poked her head in.

  “Ben,” she said, “we just got a call from Frank. He said there’s a crisis in the investigation, and he wants all three of us back at Police Headquarters as soon as possible for a damage control strategy session.”

  As we left the Krauss home, I could see Netter walking to his car, shaking his head and mumbling something to himself. I couldn’t hear all of what he was saying, but the F-word was in full force.

  CHAPTER 46

  The three of us arrived back at the Cary PD at two fifteen and went directly to the task force conference room. Already in attendance were Cox, Erikson from Apex, Woodward from the SBI, Huffman the M.E., and Dreckmann from the Wake County Crime Lab. Cox was extremely agitated.

  “Okay, people,” he said. “Let’s get started. We have a problem with the seminal fluid samples found at the Clancy, Knudsen and Klauss crime scenes. We’re going to have to report about this tomorrow at nine o’clock, so we better come up with some answers.” He turned to Dreckmann. “Angela, what have you found out?”

  She displayed an image on the screen at the front of the room. “Genetic markers from the DNA of the seminal fluid samples found at the Clancy scene are shown here on the left. Those found at the Knudsen scene are on the right. You can see that they are identical.” She pulled up two more images. “On the left are genetic markers of the seminal fluid samples taken at the Krauss scene, and on the right are genetic markers from a sample taken from a known individual. If you flip back and forth as I’m doing here, you can see that all four sets of markers are identical.

  The investigator in charge is my deputy, Marie Driscoll. She’s one of the top forensic investigators in the country, and she’s worked numerous hours of her own time to build the evidence case. I’ve reviewed the lab records. I’ve checked and rechecked. In all cases, Marie and her team correctly followed strict protocol when handling the samples.”

  She paused. “What’s puzzling is, according to the records, samples from the first two scenes were not handled after the collection of the sample taken from the known individual or the samples taken from the Krauss scene. They were never even in the same building, let alone the same room.”

  She took a sip from a glass of water and continued. “Based on this evidence, we would normally conclude that all four samples are from the killer. So this is a complete mystery.”

  I frowned. “I’m confused. What’s the problem? It looks like you have the genetic markers of the killer. So who the hell is this known individual?”

  “I’ll tell you what the problem is,” Cox said. “The genetic markers are yours, Tucker.”

  “What?” I was flabbergasted. “That’s impossible!” My mind raced as I quickly flashed through the events and formulated an argument. “That makes no sense,” I said. “I’ve never even been to the Knudsen scene.”

  “And Tucker was with me at the time of the Krauss killing,” Lainie added.

  My mind continued racing and racing and racing—and then it stopped. I leaned back as the significance of what had just been presented suddenly hit me.

  I slammed my fist on the table, and everyone jumped. “Dammit!” I shouted. “They lied!”

  Dreckmann shot back defensively. “We didn’t lie about anything, Tucker!”

  I waived my hands and shook my head. “No, Angela. I didn’t mean you or anyone on your team. I’m sure you all followed protocol properly.” I looked at Netter. “There’s no mystery here.” I stood up, kicking my chair back in disgust and left the room.

  I stormed down the hall and stared out a window, fuming. I could feel Netter behind me.

  “Talk to me, Tucker.”

  “I just can’t believe it,” I said. “It’s like the plot of a cheap dime store novel.” I turned around. Lainie was there beside him, looking at me with concern. My eyes were filled, and I struggled to regain some kind of composure.

  “My parents lied to me, John. Don’t you see? Plum is my brother. Identical twins have different fingerprints … but identical DNA. I knew there was something they weren’t telling me! But I had no idea it could be this.”

  Netter stuck his palms up. “Whoa. Let’s chill for a minute. Are you sure about this? Do you understand what you’re saying?”

  I nodded slowly. “Yes. I understand. I understand everything now.” I looked back out the window. “That’s why we look so much alike.”

  “Do you think Plum knows this?”

  “I have no idea,” I said. “Maybe he does. Maybe he sought me out to even some kind of score. But why? I’m completely confused and dumfounded.”

  Netter rubbed the back of his neck. “Sorry, Tucker. I know you’re upset. But this is significant. We need to figure out our next move.”

  “I know my next move,” I said. “I’m catching the next flight to Chicago to confront my parents face-to-face and fo
rce the truth out of them. That’ll be quicker than fighting jurisdictions with search warrants. I can try to get information back to you later this evening.”

  Netter thought a minute, looked at his watch, and nodded. “It’s almost three o’clock. I’m holding on to this until tomorrow before I tell anyone else about it. If Richards knows, he’ll step in and everything will go to hell.

  “And one more thing, Tucker. According to our records, your DNA was found at these crime scenes. So I have to advise you not to leave the area until further notice.” He looked me straight in the eye and wordlessly told me something else.

  He looked at MacKenzie and channeled the same message.

  She nodded and said nothing.

  Lainie and I went to her temporary office where she began to power down and pack up her computer. She got on the phone and made two round-trip reservations to Chicago. Surprisingly, it was only sixteen hundred dollars. Our flight was scheduled to leave at 4:53 p.m—in less than two hours.

  I called Hector, our gardener, who said he’d be happy to take Oscar with him until I got back. Next I called my brother George and asked him to be at Mom and Dad’s when we arrived at about seven thirty. He could tell I was upset and asked what was going on. I only told him that I needed him to restrain me from killing Dad and that the family would never be the same again after my visit.

  CHAPTER 47

  It only took thirty minutes to drive to Raleigh-Durham International Airport. I parked the Jag in short term parking, and hid Pure Reason in the trunk. After showing her badge and identification, Lainie was permitted to carry her weapon on the flight. We made it to the gate by four fifteen.

  She looked up and down the airport hallway near our gate, hunting for something. I watched as she found what she was looking for. “I’m going to run over there and get some decent coffee to take on the flight. You sit and watch my things. What do you want?”